OOC



The taxi rolls to a stop at the base of the long flight of stairs that lead up to Willard Hall at Sacramento State. The rear door opens, a soft moan coming from the man exiting from the passenger side onto the curb. 5 hours on a plane had left him stiff; atrophied muscles protesting as they're forced to move; only the stolen life stored in the blood forced though them makes the muscles respond; the man leaning forward to talk to the driver through the passenger side window. He pays his fare, a generous tip included before he moves towards the trunk of the taxi.

The drive pops the drunk, the passenger retrieving a large duffel bag and lap top case. He shuts the trunk, knocking twice on the roof of the taxi to let the driver know he was clear to drive off. The young man watches the faded yellow taxi pull way, gently stretching his stiff limbs, trying to work flexibility into them once again.

5 hours in the air; another hour driving through traffic to the university; Maximilian Heinz was quite tired of setting by now. Another soft groan as he stretches his long, thing arms; then he turns to make his way up the stairs. He pauses for a moment at the large entrance doors, searching at his feet for the object he'd instructed his ghoul to leave. A few seconds of searching, then a self-assured smile tugs at the edges of his lips. A small rock, about as big around as a Pringles can lid, lay under a well trimmed shrub. The faintest of outlines, a dragon coiled into itself, it's mouth gripping it's tail, was etched into it's surface.

He reaches down, picking up the rock and the keys hidden underneath it. He slips the rock into a pocket, pulling the front door key out in one smooth motion; is if it had always been there. He slips it into the lock on the front door; well oiled hinges working silently as he opens them and steps inside. A moment to turn and relock the door; he doesn't bother with turning on the lights inside the darkened building; the soft moonlight offering enough visibility for his auspex heightened senses to clearly show the way. Within seconds he's swallowed by the dark interior, the hall seeming to be abandoned by any curious passerby.

Max makes his way to the stairwell, preferring the chance to stretch his legs as he makes his way down to the basement. The hinges of the door leading into the storage area are far less maintained, yet they too worked without whine or protest. His curiosity piqued, the young Mekhet bends down, giving a curious sniff at one of the hinges. The smell of fresh oil fills his senses, making Max smile. His ghoul had seen to every detail, as he knew she would. It came as no surprise then that the granite floor of the storage basement had been freshly swept and mopped.

It was so clean, he at first had trouble discerning the path to his new haven. Only a few well hidden marks and symbols pointed the way through the maze of boxes, crates, and storage shelves; Max taking special effort to remember the path back out again. A few minutes walking, and he stood at the heavy wooden door of his office. Provided by the university as long as he remained as a visiting fellow of history; the university had readily agreed to provide him an office larger than one normally provided to fellows; if only because of it's location. Who would want a windowless, glorified janitor's closet in the basement of an aging education hall?

Max pulls the other key from his pocket, unlocking this door as well. Once more the door opened without protest, a thin finger reaching out to grope for the light switch. A few seconds of searching and he finds it, mindful to dampen his senses as light floods the windowless office, spilling out to illuminate a few feet of the storage area around the office door. A pleased smile lifts his lips; the Dragon feeling instantly at home.

A large wooden desk dominated the room; placed at the center of the room. Made of stout cheery wood, not the flimsy particle board of most modern furniture, the light from a banker's lamp reflected rich and warm tones throughout the office. A slimline computer set opposite the lamp, a flat screen monitor turned away from the doorway. Maximilian didn't particularly care for the recent invention; but his ghoul insisted he learn how to use it; and he must admit it was useful for certain tasks. An over-stuffed office chair set tucked into the desk, looking far more comfortable than the chair of the airplane Max had slipped himself into earlier that night.

He steps farther inside, fingers gently brushing the spines of the books that fill the bookshelves that line the walls of the office. For a few moments Max is perplexed; the office was supposed to be larger, with two rooms. And yet there seemed to be only one room; no doors save the one he entered though. No hidden latch to make a secret door swing open, no switch under the desk to unlock a hidden passage. It takes a good 10 minutes for Max to spot the expert optical illusion his ghoul had crafted to safe guard his Haven. A gentle tug, and he stood inside the larger of the two rooms.

Roughly double the size of his office, this room was filled with the private artifacts of Max's unlife. Two bookshelves held his much smaller personal library; with books far different from the mundane history and reference books in his office. Arcane tombs, research gathered from other Dragons, and personal notebooks filled the shelves; covering topics from anthropology to Aztec architecture. One never knew what information would be useful in the quest for occult insight.

Next to the bookshelves was a desk very similar to the one in the office; though smaller. Just large enough for his laptop and a mouse; Max sets the leather computer carrying case on the desk. He steps to the other side of the room, where a small but well equipped lab was set up. It was less than he expected, the trials and experiments Max would need to push his undead body to the next level of transformation would need to be extensive; ones this lab was ill equipped to handle. Still, Samantha had done the best she could with the limited time, space, and resources she'd been given.

Max sighs softly, slipping the duffel bag from around his shoulder and setting it on the ground, undoing the knotted cord that held the top closed. Inside he unpacked several notebooks; observations and ideas too precious to the Mekhet to risk losing them in the mail with the other books in his collection. A few ingredients of a more... exotic nature than what could be found in Sacramento came next, joining those already present on the laboratory shelves. The last few items were the most precious; keepsakes and mementos from the past 80 years.

Some of them mystic, some of them historical, all a small piece of Max's past. They helped to keep him connected to his human past, as well as the even of his unlife. These were placed gently in a curio cabinet. Finally unpacked, Max stood back, resting gently on the balls of his feet; palms resting on the top of the sandstone sarcophagus that served as his bed during the day sleep; the large stone coffin placed between the book shelves and cabinet; to avoid making it the first thing one would focus on while entering the haven.

His fingers brush a manila envelope; Max, reaching down to take the file and open it. inside was the last thing he'd ordered his ghoul to provide; a list of suitable vassals; kine to feed from once he arrived. The Lost Nights had left many kine without masters; those addicted to the Kiss, without a Master to provide it. He pulled the first sheet of paper from the file; glancing at the picture and information summarized for his use. He smiled to himself, reaching for his cell phone. He dials the number, waiting for the girl to pick up.

"Hello, is this Anna? Ahh, good. This is Max Heinz, I belive my assistant Samantha talked to you about possable undergraduate credit for assisting me in some... research. Are you still interested? Wonderful; would you be free to discuss the possability tonight? Excellant, I'll meet you outside shortly.*

Hanging up the phone, Max can't help but chuckle as he steps out of his Haven and back into his office. Sealing the door, he takes a moment to straighten his appearance in a small mirror stored in the drawer of the desk.

"The more things change...." He muses to himself on the way out the door.